8/18/07
“Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start,
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart."
-- W.B. Yeats, "The Circus Animals' Desertion" (1939)
Look closely. Look closer. That’s right folks, it’s Jesus. Where, but on the tongue of my loyal guard coyote, Jackie, would an icon so miraculous, so serendipitous, so blessed, appear. The photo you see before you was taken at a fishing camp in old Big Bay. The pelt itself, draped over the antlers in the image, hangs above a knotty pine portico that leads into the kitchen. As is my wont of an afternoon, I was gazing over the sparkling big sea water, when suddenly, the rough beast’s tongue caught my attention. Whence came this apparition? Was it possibly an effect of the steroid, a simple roid kill on the canyon highways of my mind? Why me, Lord? Blinded like the sinful Saul on the road to Damascus, I fell to my knees. Hamlet-like, I challenged the hallucination to make itself flesh. Recalling the many times as a child that I saw the blood dripping from the statuary at the stations of the cross, I kept repeating, I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks…I do, I do, I do….A swarm of biting black flies shook me from my reverie. I shouted, Praise God! Praise God? Then, wincing, as my gouty toe rudely jerked me from the realm of the supernatural into the vortex of the real, I fell in a teary heap. I tried everything -- turkey rhubarb teas, energy massages, Ki therapy, macrobiotic diets, detoxifying ointments -- you name it, I still had cancer. What to do? Should I turn to conventional medicine? That’s expensive. Then it hit me: sell the Jesus image on e-bay and use the money to finance the best treatment available. But, first, I had something to do. Find out more about the American Healthcare system.
After finding out more, this is what I have to say.
With the economy in freefall, largely because we have poured billions and billions into a senseless war while at the same time neglecting a crumbling infrastructure, the upkeep of which would provide countless American jobs; and with the growing public unease about the continuing loss of jobs at every level of the employment strata, it’s no wonder that the American people are concerned about healthcare. How can you have, as President Bush suggests, “the best health care system in the world” while at the same time not have universal health coverage?
It is disturbing, if not unconscionable, that in a society we consider to be philosophically enlightened, modern, and founded on a Christian based morality, there are 45 million people without health insurance. While the hyperbolic claims of Michael Moore’s documentary, “Sicko” exaggerate the disparities between European national health care systems and the United States’, a closer look reveals glaring shortcomings in the way we treat illness.
In truth, the lack of a centralized insurance system puts the onus on disparate patients and providers to identify and coordinate their treatment. A national health care plan would result in the application of technologies and monies in a more efficient way, a way that standardizes treatments and reduces the confusion of a non-centralized system.
While the implementation of a national health care plan has been vilified as a form of “socialized medicine” and as an inept tangle of big government bureaucracy just waiting to be unleashed, the fact is, according to a study conducted seven years ago by the World Health Organization, in a ranking of 191 nations the United States ranked 37th. Similarly, surveys of patients and doctors conducted by the Commonwealth Fund rank the U.S. below Australia, Canada, Germany, New Zealand and the United Kingdom in terms of quality of care and access to it.
True, if one receives medical treatment at one of the many top medical centers in the U.S., the care is first rate. But should we really be surprised that having the most powerful economy in the world and having the world’s best medical care are in many ways incompatible? The rich will get the very best care while the poor remain neglected. For if having this powerful economy is a nation’s holy grail, and if this quest is geared toward lining the pockets of that small percentage of the wealthiest, is it any wonder that the U.S. health care system reflects this disparity exactly? Uninsured low-income families and those with skimpy coverage suffer the most.
Let’s look at two particular cancer cases, and compare them in the ways they relate to a number of problem areas under the American system. My friend Bill has no health insurance and is covered by a Washtenaw County Fund for needy families. I, on the other hand, have M-Care, a top-notch health insurance plan that covers many U-M employees. Bill’s story underscores what many studies have shown about the uninsured, they consistently resist seeking treatment. In doing so they not only risk allowing minor maladies to become major illnesses, but willingly compromise their own health and put a greater financial burden on the emergency rooms and social programs they utilize. In Bill’s case, before he was diagnosed with lung cancer, his wife, Martha, and I had to beg him to seek treatment. His response was typical, without insurance the visit would cost too much. Regarding physician’s access, when Bill pages his doctor he routinely waits a week for a return call. In my case, I have always been assured I would be contacted within a half hour, and it has never taken more than fifteen minutes. But even those U.S. citizens with above average incomes have a much harder time than their European counterparts in getting care on nights or weekends. In terms of top-of-the-line care, my P.E.T. scan was done in the modern comfort of U-M hospital’s medical procedures unit, while Bill’s was done in a mobile scan trailer parked in the back of a less prestigious local hospital. My chemo infusions are administered in either a private room or a space that accommodates two patients, both have windows. Bill sits in a windowless room where twenty patients in a circle receive group chemotherapy. Bill, whose cancer is much farther along, and of a different type, receives 7.5 Vicodan, a medicine that severely affects his already weakened digestive system, while I have been prescribed Oxycodone, a much more stomach friendly, and less adulterated , pain reliever, and one that Bill should have had access to long ago. The differences in palliative care between the rich and the poor are appalling.
The health care debate is real and it’s not going away. With this in mind, isn’t it time that Congress, as well as the potential presidential candidates, stepped up to the plate in terms of eliminating the vast numbers of our uninsured citizens, and leveling the playing field economically in terms of quality of care. Moreover, given our enormous economic might, and our claim to being the most morally enlightened society in the world, shouldn’t it be our duty to offer the best health care system on the planet.
“Now that my ladder's gone,
I must lie down where all the ladders start,
In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart."
-- W.B. Yeats, "The Circus Animals' Desertion" (1939)
Look closely. Look closer. That’s right folks, it’s Jesus. Where, but on the tongue of my loyal guard coyote, Jackie, would an icon so miraculous, so serendipitous, so blessed, appear. The photo you see before you was taken at a fishing camp in old Big Bay. The pelt itself, draped over the antlers in the image, hangs above a knotty pine portico that leads into the kitchen. As is my wont of an afternoon, I was gazing over the sparkling big sea water, when suddenly, the rough beast’s tongue caught my attention. Whence came this apparition? Was it possibly an effect of the steroid, a simple roid kill on the canyon highways of my mind? Why me, Lord? Blinded like the sinful Saul on the road to Damascus, I fell to my knees. Hamlet-like, I challenged the hallucination to make itself flesh. Recalling the many times as a child that I saw the blood dripping from the statuary at the stations of the cross, I kept repeating, I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks, I do believe in spooks…I do, I do, I do….A swarm of biting black flies shook me from my reverie. I shouted, Praise God! Praise God? Then, wincing, as my gouty toe rudely jerked me from the realm of the supernatural into the vortex of the real, I fell in a teary heap. I tried everything -- turkey rhubarb teas, energy massages, Ki therapy, macrobiotic diets, detoxifying ointments -- you name it, I still had cancer. What to do? Should I turn to conventional medicine? That’s expensive. Then it hit me: sell the Jesus image on e-bay and use the money to finance the best treatment available. But, first, I had something to do. Find out more about the American Healthcare system.
After finding out more, this is what I have to say.
With the economy in freefall, largely because we have poured billions and billions into a senseless war while at the same time neglecting a crumbling infrastructure, the upkeep of which would provide countless American jobs; and with the growing public unease about the continuing loss of jobs at every level of the employment strata, it’s no wonder that the American people are concerned about healthcare. How can you have, as President Bush suggests, “the best health care system in the world” while at the same time not have universal health coverage?
It is disturbing, if not unconscionable, that in a society we consider to be philosophically enlightened, modern, and founded on a Christian based morality, there are 45 million people without health insurance. While the hyperbolic claims of Michael Moore’s documentary, “Sicko” exaggerate the disparities between European national health care systems and the United States’, a closer look reveals glaring shortcomings in the way we treat illness.
In truth, the lack of a centralized insurance system puts the onus on disparate patients and providers to identify and coordinate their treatment. A national health care plan would result in the application of technologies and monies in a more efficient way, a way that standardizes treatments and reduces the confusion of a non-centralized system.
While the implementation of a national health care plan has been vilified as a form of “socialized medicine” and as an inept tangle of big government bureaucracy just waiting to be unleashed, the fact is, according to a study conducted seven years ago by the World Health Organization, in a ranking of 191 nations the United States ranked 37th. Similarly, surveys of patients and doctors conducted by the Commonwealth Fund rank the U.S. below Australia, Canada, Germany, New Zealand and the United Kingdom in terms of quality of care and access to it.
True, if one receives medical treatment at one of the many top medical centers in the U.S., the care is first rate. But should we really be surprised that having the most powerful economy in the world and having the world’s best medical care are in many ways incompatible? The rich will get the very best care while the poor remain neglected. For if having this powerful economy is a nation’s holy grail, and if this quest is geared toward lining the pockets of that small percentage of the wealthiest, is it any wonder that the U.S. health care system reflects this disparity exactly? Uninsured low-income families and those with skimpy coverage suffer the most.
Let’s look at two particular cancer cases, and compare them in the ways they relate to a number of problem areas under the American system. My friend Bill has no health insurance and is covered by a Washtenaw County Fund for needy families. I, on the other hand, have M-Care, a top-notch health insurance plan that covers many U-M employees. Bill’s story underscores what many studies have shown about the uninsured, they consistently resist seeking treatment. In doing so they not only risk allowing minor maladies to become major illnesses, but willingly compromise their own health and put a greater financial burden on the emergency rooms and social programs they utilize. In Bill’s case, before he was diagnosed with lung cancer, his wife, Martha, and I had to beg him to seek treatment. His response was typical, without insurance the visit would cost too much. Regarding physician’s access, when Bill pages his doctor he routinely waits a week for a return call. In my case, I have always been assured I would be contacted within a half hour, and it has never taken more than fifteen minutes. But even those U.S. citizens with above average incomes have a much harder time than their European counterparts in getting care on nights or weekends. In terms of top-of-the-line care, my P.E.T. scan was done in the modern comfort of U-M hospital’s medical procedures unit, while Bill’s was done in a mobile scan trailer parked in the back of a less prestigious local hospital. My chemo infusions are administered in either a private room or a space that accommodates two patients, both have windows. Bill sits in a windowless room where twenty patients in a circle receive group chemotherapy. Bill, whose cancer is much farther along, and of a different type, receives 7.5 Vicodan, a medicine that severely affects his already weakened digestive system, while I have been prescribed Oxycodone, a much more stomach friendly, and less adulterated , pain reliever, and one that Bill should have had access to long ago. The differences in palliative care between the rich and the poor are appalling.
The health care debate is real and it’s not going away. With this in mind, isn’t it time that Congress, as well as the potential presidential candidates, stepped up to the plate in terms of eliminating the vast numbers of our uninsured citizens, and leveling the playing field economically in terms of quality of care. Moreover, given our enormous economic might, and our claim to being the most morally enlightened society in the world, shouldn’t it be our duty to offer the best health care system on the planet.
1 comment:
So maybe there's something to this "speaking in tongues" thing after all.
- Les
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